HE was the voice behind the dummy who for a decade was Britain's favourite entertainer. But Peter Brough's private life was rarely played for laughs

With his unnerving rictus grin and popeyed stare he was the most unlikely of national icons.

But Archie Andrews was the broadcasting sensation of the 1950s, a wooden-headed schoolboy whose cheeky invincibility and sense of entitlement was unusual in an era when children were expected to be seen and not heard.

Archie even seduced royalty, hosting the staff Christmas party at Windsor Castle for 25 years. At the first of these shows in 1948 George VI removed Archie's head to examine how it worked.

As it was put back on Archie quipped: "Sir, I'm the only fellow you've ever beheaded in your reign."

Behind the dummy's irrepressible spirit and jaunty Savile Rowtailored blazer was Peter Brough, a mild-mannered ventriloquist who even at the height of his fame worked part-time in the family's textile business.

He lived in style in a Hertfordshire mansion with his designer-clad wife Peggy and two photogenic children who were captured in countless publicity shots either side of "big brother" Archie.

Although Brough wanted this vision of the perfect happy family to be true the reality was grim. His marriage was riven with rows that traumatised the children.

The disastrous fallout came much later, with Peggy and his son Christopher committing suicide.

Brough's daughter Romey, now a successful 69-year-old painter, tells me: "He often wished he'd stood up to my mother. She really needed psychiatric help. He was a lovely, gentle man. When she was introduced to Wally Ridley, dad's music director, she said, 'Oh, you're the man who's going to make my husband lots of money that I can spend.'"

Romey's feelings about her turbulent childhood were channelled into a loathing for Archie.

"He was a continual presence, always around. Part of the resentment was that I was always being told to get dressed up and not look sulky in photos with Archie. I was teased by other children who called him my wooden-topped brother and I grew to hate him."

Brough retired without explanation from showbusiness in 1961 after the death of his father and ran the family business, commissioning cloth from mills for fashion houses.

"It made him sad because he loved to entertain. He came to life when he was watching Sunday Night At The London Palladium," says Romey.

Now a Radio 4 play, His Master's Voice, starring Rob Brydon as both Brough and the more squeakyvoiced Archie, tells their story.

The son of an amateur ventriloquist, Brough began his working life in a department store at 16, teaching himself to throw his voice in his spare time.

By the age of 22 he was being booked for the occasional variety slot. During the war he joined the Army as a driver but after being invalided out due to a lung condition joined ENSA, the wartime organisation set up to entertain the troops.

He and Archie became wellknown after numerous radio guest slots but it was the advent of Educating Archie in 1950 which made him a household name. It ran for 10 years. Scripted by newcomer Eric Sykes and recorded before a live audience the show revolved around the antics of the schoolboy and the tutors, chums, girlfriends and housekeepers in his orbit.

Colin Burnett-Dick, a company director who paid £40,000 at auction in 2005 for Archie, says: "People always say, 'A ventriloquist on radio. How daft.' Peter wasn't the best ventriloquist. His talent was creating and dev eloping the character of Archie. That's what millions tuned in to, imagining the adventures of this real boy."

In the post-war era Archie advertised food and clothing coupons and promoted road safety. The Inland Revenue sent a tax demand addressed to Archie Andrews Esquire and when Brough wanted to increase the insurance on the doll, Archie was invited for a medical.

Educating Archie launched the careers of many top names. "He encouraged them to experiment and try new things," says Burnett- Dick. "The genesis of Dick Emery's cross-dressing humour was in the show and that was also where Benny Hill began using his West Country accent. A lot of catchphrases came out of the show such as Max Bygraves'

'I wanna tell you a story.' Peter was friendly with Julie Andrews' parents and when she was 12 he heard her singing when he went over for dinner. At 15 she played Archie's girlfriend, staying for a couple of years."

While audiences roared with laughter at Archie's home life, Brough's was in tatters. He had married Peggy in 1940. Romey and Chris, 18 months her senior and unrelated to her, were privately adopted soon after birth.

"Mother never showed affection. We were brought up by a series of nannies, each one called Nanny Brough," says Romey.

"Mother was a terrible snob. She survived on purple hearts [amphetamines] and Valium. When she was on a high she would drag me round all the best department stores buying clothes."

The couple parted in 1954 but Brough kept it quiet, fearing the scandal would damage his career. Yet he did later achieve happiness.

"I'm so glad he found Liz, his second 'wife', who created a happy family for him with two super children," says Romey.

"Of course they were never offi - cially married. I met them once after I'd left home and wondered why my childhood couldn't have been like that."

Brough died aged 83 in 1999. He ended his days at a nursing home.

Romey recalls: "Joan Collins used to visit and he gave his last ever performance with Archie there, less than a year before he died.

"He was an awful ventriloquist. You could see his lips moving when he recorded his radio shows but the live audience joined in the game. It was part of the fantasy. On TV the magic disappeared."

Archie lives in Ashdown Forest, East Sussex, with Burnett-Dick and his wife Pauline. "There's something very special about him," he says.

"He has been handled by everyone from the Queen to The Beatles and he's absorbed the aura of all these stars. If you meet him you never forget him."